


trust me, i've got you

by missingyou



Series: adventures of bruce and clark's firsts [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Feels, Clark is a sweetheart, Developing Relationship, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, bruce is getting used to it, bruce is scared still, i dont know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingyou/pseuds/missingyou
Summary: Slipping from consciousness, he felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier with every blinking motion. Suddenly his cowl felt like a ton of bricks wearing him down, and all he was aware of was his slowly sinking body. When had he fallen? Was he pushed, dragged? The burn of his lungs began to intercede his cognitive thought, and suddenly Bruce was overly recognizant of how he was about to die.Of course, he thought, he'd die in the most painful way possible. Drowning, with the burn and agony unfurling gradually throughout his every body part. He couldn't tell if his heart was pounding or barely beating at all.His eyes began to grow heaver and heavier, and the water was infiltrating his suit as he sank deeper into the vast ocean.-or, clark saves bruce, and after they share their first moment alone after their date.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Series: adventures of bruce and clark's firsts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953964
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	trust me, i've got you

**Author's Note:**

> :) tell me what ya think! took a while to publish this one.
> 
> let me say something really quick here. I want to thank all of the love and support that ive been getting on my other works. like, you guys dont know how much it means to me that you're enjoying what I write as much as I enjoy creating it. thank you all for everything! dont know how you read my works even after my technical errors like when I put Wally with iris....thank you to the person who pointed that out bc I originally had Barry instead and forgot to change it...embarrassing on my part lol

He couldn't get him off his mind.

No matter his insistent training, his reckless patrols, or his hours of droning research. Not even when he tried all three in one day could Clark Kent's perfect smile fade from the forefront of his mind. There was a rock in his stomach, one of frustration and fear (though he'd hate to admit it) and it remained there, unmoving no matter the circumstance. 

Bruce swung at the punching bag as hard as he could, the copious force almost ripping the bag off its hook. The once cemented metal piece hammered between the rock of the cave's ceiling gave an audible crack, the sound proceeding to echo throughout the dark, sparse area. He didn't feel any better, his conscious acknowledged as he panted, hands moving swiftly, knuckles covered in the protecting white tape, as they held the bag in place before it could swing too wildly (even more so than it had already). Sweat slid from his hairline down to his jaw, where it then dripped on the mat beneath his bare feet.

There was no point anymore in pursuing whatever hopeless objective he'd thought of to regain focus. His mind was latched onto the same image and it simply repeated it over and over again on a 24-hour loop. With a resigned grunt he allowed himself to kneel after training for so long, shoulders slouching the minute his knee met the ground, conceding this war he was fighting in his head. Sweaty hair falling over his face as he lowered his head, he shut his eyes tightly, and once again all he could see was the Kansas boy, handsome as ever, backing him into the brick wall.

He could almost feel the cool air of that night fresh against his skin, remembering how it felt to finally let himself indulge in what he wanted so badly. What he had craved for, for so long. Kal was walking temptation, and on that chilly night Bruce had finally allowed himself to finally quench his thirst.

His breaths began to even, ad his chest slowed as it followed the pattern. Bruce clenched his jaw, feeling the burn on his cheeks before throwing a swift side kick to the bag again, tossing it off its hook and onto the cold floors. He had thought if he finally let himself fully remember then it would all be over, but his heart was racing and the butterflies in his stomach abruptly returned as though he was experiencing it all over again.

"Master Bruce," he heard the soft accented voice speak and his eyebrows furrowed as Bruce tried to give Alfred the attention he deserved. But, he stayed kneeled on his training mat, one hand clutching the left side of his pec while the other was in a tight fist on the cushioned material. it almost hurt, he thought, the feeling so intense it was almost painful.

"Don't look at me." he felt himself say, the billionaire almost utterly helpless as he remained frozen, frustrated.

"Master Bruce," Alfred was closer now and Bruce hadn't even detected his footsteps, "It's okay to be scared."

"I can't-"

"I understand," his butler had to be right beside him, but it felt impossible to open his own eyes better yet face the most important person in his life. He had compromised his focus, was on his way to compromise his mission, and Alfred had every right to be disappointed in him. After all this effort, the relentless training, the scars, the pain, (the _deaths,_ the _sacrifices,_ suddenly the image of Jason in his hands clashed with the one of Clark, the look on Dick's face when he found out--)

No, he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't face the music.

"Listen to me, not whatever nonsense is going through your head." Alfred's voice was clear, loud in comparison to his usual tone, "You're embarking on something special and no matter how you see it this will always be scary."

_"You can be scared and still be strong, Bruce."_

He felt the compression in his chest dig deeper into his sternum and Bruce hadn't noticed his hitched breathing until his brain processed his panic attack. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, and realized Alfred had knelt alongside him, and suddenly he was feeling guilty for even the smallest things.

"Your suit will wrinkle, Al, stand instead." The vulnerable man's hand still clutched needlessly at his tank top, it almost pulsing with the rapid pace of his heart rate.

They sat in silence for a moment or two, enough for Bruce to hastily gather his bearings and realize the extent at which he's allowed his emotions to overtake him. His jaw went slack and he proceeded to take deep breaths, hating how exposed he felt even if it was only him and the man he was raised by (there was a more bothersome train of thought in the back of his head, one that reminded himself if his heartbeat passed a certain speed Clark would most likely appear as quick as possible. That seemed more unbearable than anything else he could imagine).

"Do you remember your first moment in this cave?" Alfred laughed, voice utterly nostalgic as he reminisced to when Bruce was barely a pre-teen. "How frightful you were as a child. Every night after you would wake from terrible nightmares, couldn't bare the sight of the backyard for even a second."

"But, I also remember how your fear diffused once you realized the bats were just as scared of you as you were them." he paused for a moment, waiting.

Bruce finally lifted his head, looking to his side so he could meet the other's knowing eyes. "I can assure you, Master Bruce, that he is just as scared. Probably even more."

"Logistically," he sighed, dragging his hands through his hair before letting them fall limp to his side, "I know that. But, this is about more than just Clark, Alfred. This is about the cowl, you, me, Dick, -- this is about everything. I have so much to lose."

"Good, then. Don't mess this up." the older man sighed, "Now that you see all you have, you can also realize that you've done this before."

"With me, Dick, and you've been doing it with Master Clark since he was first inducted in the league."

"What if I do something stupid?"

"Please, elaborate, because you're speaking as though that hasn't happened already."

"Alfred, what if I break his heart?"

"Master Bruce, you don't hurt someone intentionally unless you think it's what's best for them. Could you imagine a scenario where that would occur?"

Countless ones, to the point where he wouldn't sleep. His brain ran over hypothetical scenarios incessantly, ones where he would break Clark's heart without a second thought. All that had to occur was an exploitation from a criminal, and Bruce could already see himself doing it. What they'd have would be so fragile.

_"Yes, yes I really could. I could see myself doing it right now."_

* * *

Clark was laughing heartedly as he typed his story onto the dated computer. He'd been writing for hours, and Lois's company beside him didn't make it easy for him to focus. The sun's shine was lighting the entire offices through their glass windows, and the sight of Metropolis was as beautiful as ever. He could barely look at Lois without squinting as a result of the stubborn shine from outside.

"I can't believe a word you say, Smallville," Lois smirked, "You're known around here as a pathological liar. Especially after your rumor about Jimmy having a third nipple, Perry couldn't look at the boy in the eye for weeks."

_Alfred, what if I break his heart?_

Although his eyes remained on Lois, he could feel his ears pick up on the conversation miles away. His vibrant smile began to fade.

_..Could you imagine a scenario where that would occur?_

_Yes, yes I really could. I could see myself doing it right now._

"Smallville?" Lois questioned him, snapping her manicured fingers in his face as she recognized his distant expression. Except the solemn in his eyes wasn't there prior, and she wondered just what he picked up on. She watched him slowly fall back into his own body as he began to blink furiously and she watched his cheeks turn red out of embarrassment as he fumbled with an apology. "What did you hear, Kent?" she quickly cut him off.

Her confidence and directness was something Clark had always appreciated and he's sure he would've been amused if not so hurt. "Nothing I didn't already know," he stated, trying to smile through the emptiness in his gut. There was a sense of dread building up in the back of his head, and he realized that no matter how hard he tried he could never actually convince Bruce to trust him. The realization was a terrible one, the kind that left a lump of unresolved feelings in his throat, the familiar burn behind his eyes. Prior to this, he was motivated by the idea of their date swaying Bruce into his playing field, except it seems it worsened the situation.

"Hey," Lois whispered, leaning in, her strong features showing compassion as she saw the other's expression, "I don't know if this helps, but you probably weren't supposed to hear whatever you did, okay? And that actually means something, because people don't always communicate about their feelings, especially when they think they can handle it on their own."

"I just-"

 _"Superman, we need your help."_ Diana's stern voice interrupted his sentence, and immediately he felt himself straighten, standing from his position at his desk.

"Hold on, I have to use the bathroom." He excused himself and swiftly moved from his desk chair toward the exit, pulling off his cheap suit once he entered the stairway as he immediately changed out.

"Diana? What's going on?"

_"It's the docks east of Gotham Bay, there's a massive explosion. There has to be some sort of tie between this and Luthor's invasion of that factory down town. Please contact Bruce as well, we need all hands on board. civilians have been hurt and some are held hostage."_

"Right. On my way."

Flying toward the explosion, Clark quickly reached for his comm as he contacted said man. His gut twisted as he did so, but it did nothing to stop the speed of his hand as his mindset shifted from his own self to that of Superman. 

"Superman, I'm already on my way. Updates?"

"About to land. What's the plan?"

"Diana's the only one on the scene so far, though Flash is most likely there already. I can assume there are 6 guards and three on the second story, not including the person who had to place the bomb. That leaves ten in total, all armed."

"Diana mentioned something about Luthor being tied to this too, we can expect Kryptonite bullets then?"

"Yes, Superman." he heard the deep voice falter for a second. There was a lingering moment of silence and the only reason Clark didn't hangup was because he could hear Bruce's hitched breathing as though he was right beside him. Closing his eyes, Kal allowed himself to revel in the moment. "Please be safe."

The usually reserved man's voice was so quiet Clark almost thought he imagined it and, as he opened his mouth to reply, Bruce hung up before he could respond. Suddenly Lois's words echoed through his ears. He almost allowed himself to be comforted by them until the burning building came into his line of sight, the scene of Diana dragging out bodies while deflecting bullets suddenly dominating his vision. Immediately he flew down, inhumane in his speed as he knocked three men out, guns falling onto the ground.

"Be careful!" Diana yelled out, covering his backside, "These bullets are laced, Luthor's name is all over this."

"Who else is here?" Superman yelled out, throwing a right hook on another approaching enemy. There was a slight pierce in his costume, signaling the shot was close to hitting him.

"Flash is near the ledge, he's trying to minimize our collateral damage by taking out the civilians and placing them on rescue boats we found three miles down. They'll have medical assistance there if needed." 

"We need eyes on the inside, someone needs to see what they're after. The factory is covered in lead--"

The bullet fires seemed to grow increasingly the longer they tried to contain them. Diana stayed near him and he flew to a bird's eye view, furrowing his eyebrows as the pieces continued to confuse him. Information was missing and he instinctively reached fo his comm. "B?" he called out, waiting for the receiver to pick up the other's signal, "B, something's not right here, it doesn't even look like they're defending anything. They're just shooting to shoot."

It was silent for a moment, the minor interference in the ear piece at least showed Clark that he was being heard, but for some reason the Bat wasn't responding. 

"It's a trap, Superman, they're stalling you." the other finally grunted out, and there was an audible crash from the background, "Play along though, from what I can see they have another group of men, I would estimate double the amount, surrounding Wayne owned factories and transports. Luthor's looking for something, my money's on the new Wayne machinery shipped from Hong Kong."

"His men have us tied up here," Clark dodged another fire of bullets before diving in to take the group out, "They've huddled god knows how many civilians in this abandoned port. Keep me updated over there, and whatever you do, do _not_ storm that area alone. Arthur's on his way."

* * *

As the strategist of the team, Batman was used to giving orders. In every scenario he would be the one to split the team up where their dynamics would best benefit their mission and so, due to his obscurely detailed knowledge of the league members, most of the time he was rather accurate in his predictions. As a result, there would be barely any resistance toward his orders at this point. However, the caped crusader was a different type of personality, and to put it shortly, he was about five hundred feet inland on the Wayne private property, steps practiced as he already knew his way around the area.

"-Whatever you do, do _not_ storm that area alone.." Too late, Clark.

Eyes locked on a second story window as his body hid behind the large trees surrounding the secluded area, Bruce laid eyes on his target as he spotted Luthor rummaging through crates before stocking them onto whatever transporter he carried along with him. Quickly, he analyzed his situation, took note of the small window of time he'd have with Luthor before his goons arrived, and shot his grappling hook onto one of the ledges of the window, kicking his feet through the glass.

Without hesitation, he tossed a his sharpened bat-shaped blades toward the villain's exposed hand before sprinting towards his position, immediately holding incapacitating the man where his face was against the uncut wood of the crates, hand bleeding as the blade pierced his skin while the other was held behind his back.

"You're getting sloppy, Lex."

"You weren't supposed to be here, Bats." And he threw his elbow back, a blow Bruce was quick to dodge, except he could hear the oncoming footsteps of what sounded like an entire SWAT team ready to break in. Quickly, he tried not to compromise the grip he had on Luthor has he searched for cover, but the billionaire was quick to use Batman's slight change in focus to his advantage, and he broke free of the grip, gun in the air without a second thought.

"Finally," the villain smiled, "Oh, how angry Joker will be once he sees it was me who killed you."

"If only that day was today, right?" And faster than he had ever before, he snatched the weapon from Lex just as his minions entered the massive area they were in. Kevlar hand covering Luthor's mouth, he slid into the natural shadows of the room, eyes searching for an escape plan that could result in the fewest tragedies. Mind riddled with different scenarios and contingencies to match those potential scenarios, Bruce hadn't noticed the blade Luthor held in his bloody hand until it was dug into his ribcage four or five inches deep. He grunted in pain, giving away his position as he threw the man unto the dirty ground.

Immediately bullets were being fired, and if Clark was right, then Arthur would be in the area in three to four minutes. Meaning, Bruce thought as he shut his eyes before pulling the blade out, that he had three to four minute to lead these goons outside in order to give Aquaman the advantage. 

Shaking his head he tried to clear his now blurry vision, before kicking Luthor's abdomen, grabbing the small device in-between the layers of his suit, and wiped his mouth as he bent down and blood began to pour.

Then, he ran straight into the line of fire. The Kevlar would protect most bullets, and he had to sprint across them while disarming as many as he could to reduce his probability of getting shot. Fast with every movement, Bruce counted seven disarmed men out of the twelve that had stormed to the second half of the building, and decided that Arthur could take the rest with ease. Alongside his stab wound, he'd gotten two shot wounds as well, one on his thigh that could easily be removed while the other was a little to close to his ribcage.

Grey, sleek eyes landing on the large window across from the one he entered from, Batman made one swift movement before he covered himself in his cape and jumped out the glass initiating his escape plan.

He could feel the shreds of the window cutting certain parts of his exposed skin, but barely payed attention to it once he realized he would land in the body of water behind the building. It's doable, he thought, it wouldn't be the first time he'd have to swim severely injured. Before his body hit the surface of the water, he threw a small, calculated bomb to the other half of the building, allowing for a diversion before they began shooting his descending body.

_"Batman, I'm heading from the water, is that you that's-"_

"Detain Luthor and his men, he's injured on the second floor while the other's are scattered around the property, I handled the rest."

He turned his comm off, and closed his eyes as the taste of metal was surrounding all his senses. He wasn't unfamiliar with the feeling of falling, but the force at which his body smacked against the rushing water almost made him lurch forward if not for his wounds. He attempted to swim upward, even with his injured leg he was confident he could do so, but his throbbing side wound was becoming more intense the more he lost blood. And, he realized, his flailing would only exert much needed energy.

So he allowed for his body to fall without much resistance, and his hands clutched at his side as the blood was coming from there and was beginning to clog his throat. The salinity of the water made it burn even more so than before, and the pain was almost incapacitating all by itself. He slowly watched the crimson of his blood taint the beautiful blue of the water, and could feel the lack of oxygen infiltrate his cognitive thought.

There was no way he could make it out of here by himself and he closed his eyes once he felt the water invade the nooks of his suit, beginning to soak his skin. Enclosed in the darkness of his cape, he felt his head drop back as he lost the little consciousness he held prior, suddenly the weighing Kevlar feeling like it was pure steel pulling him deeper and deeper. Bruce's lungs began to burn the longer the painful seconds passed by, and he could feel his hands grow limp as he lost the strength to hold them to his side.

Of course, he thought, he would die this way. It was one of the hardest ways to die, and he could feel his mind deteriorate. He had to have been in the water for over a minute and a half with the way his lungs felt lit aflame.

Blinking slowly, his vision was escaping him, and he only had a few seconds left before it was all over.

_"Dammit, Bruce,"_

He wasn't sure if his overactive imagination was hearing the other's voice because it would be the last thing he'd want to hear before dying, or if it was because somehow Clark managed to save him again.

But the sound, the baritone that was both deep and dangerously endearing, riddled his ear drums, and he felt a weak smile form on his face. Once again, the image flashed across his eyes. The sight, the paralyzing sight of Clark's teasing smile before backing him into the wall, laughing with him as they kissed.

Yeah, Bruce thought, this would be what he'd want to see last.

Everything felt like an out of body experience, and suddenly he was being lifted at a super speed, one that he was eerily familiar with. Superman had raised him from whatever depths he was in, and the sun was shining bright against his skin as he gasped and heaved for the oxygen his body was yearning for.

Then everything finally went black.

* * *

When the billionaire awoke for the first, he was in the medbay of the Watch Tower, arms linked to IV's, the only sound being his now steady heart rate beeping across the monitor. He tried to peel his eyes open in a weak attempt to assess his surroundings, but a warm hand on his chest stopped him from sitting up.

_"Rest a little longer, Bruce, we need your vitals stable right now."_

And so he did, closing his eyes almost instantly with little argument left in him as he shifted slightly, hand gripping tightly onto he one placed on his chest.

The second time around was different, especially because the room was his own. Rather than the gray walls of the Watch Tower, with the windows staring off into vast space, Bruce woke at around 6 in the evening with the blankets at his waist, nestled comfortably in his own king sized mattress. The room seemed vacant, but the closer Bruce listened the more he could hear faint footsteps from his bathroom. Wiping his drowsy eyes, he sat forward, the back of his head and shoulders pressed against his intricate headboard. He looked down, the chilliness of the room as a result of his bare chest, and saw the bandages and obvious stitches on the lower end of his torso.

The sun was barely setting, and Bruce released the tension in his shoulders as he leaned his head back against the wood of his bed frame, eyes closed and hair fluttered against his forehead.

"You're awake," Clark's unimpressed tone was barely hidden through the grit of his teeth and Bruce didn't want to open his eyes; he could already see the glare being thrown at him. "We need o talk."

"Do we now?" the tired state of the man was evident in his raspy voice, and it caused it to be deeper than usual.

(Clark was really trying not to blush, and luckily his anger outweighed his admiration for the billionaire's beauty, because any other day he would absolutely melt at the sight of a shirtless, just waking-up Bruce Wayne, who's stretched Adam's apple was practically begging for Clark to just walk forward and devour every inch of him.)

"Yeah, I can say confidently that we do." the Kryptonian had the advantage in this scenario and he was planning on utilizing it to the best of his ability, "Because last time I checked my orders were for you to stay put."

"When do I listen to your orders?"

"You don't. That's why you almost died today."

"Good thing you got there on time then."

Kal tried to hold his restraint as he walked across the custom-made bed, sitting right near Bruce's thighs. He felt his lip twitch at the arrogance of the answer and clenched his jaw, staring away from Bruce as he tried to hold it together and decidedly looked out the beautiful French doors that led to his balcony. "You were ridiculously stupid today, Bruce, and just because you're too prideful to admit it doesn't change anything. You could've died, I saved you, and now it's time to talk about it."

Finally the man was quiet, and Clark sat for a while in the silence before placing his head in his hands and dragging them down his face. 

"You don't understand how scared I was already," his voce was low, not yet a whisper and still as commanding as always. Bruce shifted his head as he stared at his partner through his long lashes. "I mean, just knowing you were twenty times outnumbered and separated from me was already torture enough. But seeing the blood, and having to dive no matter the bullets in my skin because I needed to see you safe in my own arms--"

"You were shot?" Bruce mumbled softly, eyes lazy over Clark's side profile as they searched for any bullet wounds. He would've healed by now though, his brain supplied.

"Five times, Bruce, it's not easy dodging three automatics fired only to you. Even for someone with super speed." Clark's voice was laced with bitter humor, and the billionaire bit his lip as a way to stay quiet, "Bruce, I know that what we have is barely anything at this point," the nearly indestructible man finally raised his head, his dark blue eyes staring right through Bruce's own. He suddenly felt too vulnerable for his own liking. "But, I need to know what you're thinking. I can't force this for the both of us, and I would never want to drag you into something you don't want."

There was a pain in his eyes now, and the blue resembled something like the night sky with the way they glittered in the dim yellow lighting of his room. Bruce watched as unshed tears lingered in the near corners of his best friend's gaze and the pain he felt in his gut was sharper than any stab wound. He was the cause of Clark's pain, and his words to Alfred earlier were suddenly haunting his consciousness. "I'm going to break your heart, inevitably, Kent," he heard himself say, his own body language contradicting his words as he reached out to touch the other's cheek.

His skin was so soft, perfectly, inhumanly smooth.

"Bruce," Clark's voice was strained, the control he held over it long gone as his emotions flushed through like waves on a shoreline, "I'm fucking in love with you, and whatever you're doing right now is hurting me more than anything."

"You don't love me, Clark, you think you do but you really-" 

"I know everything about you, Bruce," the honest, emotionally vulnerable man continued, "I was there when you first got you ass kicked by Bane and could barely stand for three days, I was there when Dick wormed his way into your life, I was there for Jason's funeral, I was there when you resurrected him- I know you, Bruce, good and bad. How many times will we have this conversation?"

"Until you finally understand the stakes and realize what's best for you."

"Fuck you, Bruce." Clark's voice cracked, "I'm here willing to do anything for you, willing to fucking fly to the moon and back, and all you can give me are shitty excuses to mask your own fear."

The Kansas boy had never cursed at him like that before, and Bruce tried not to pity himself as he stared at him. There was a moment, and it was most likely as a result of the other's horribly brutal words that seemed too accurate for his injured, exhausted self to take, but there was a moment where Bruce finally broke.

"Yeah, fuck me for wanting you to stay safe, Kal. Fuck me for wanting you to live the life you deserve, have the family you've always fucking wanted. Fuck me for trying to save you from the stupid ass plane crash that I surround myself with everyday. You're right, Kal, because it's simply illogical to think you'd get your heart broken when my fucking son died in my arms because of me, when my parents were shot dead in an alley because of me, when even Selina Kyle had to walk away from me because she realized she couldn't bear this life anymore." Bruce didn't allow himself to yell, but his chest was heaving afterward as though he was, "Yes, you know me, but you're blinded by this idea that I'm even capable-"

"No, you're stuck in this pit you've made for yourself, B." Clark shifted his body so he fully faced the frustrated man, "You're capable of loving someone, and you showed it that night we went out, but something happened between then and now that's caused your walls to build back up again. What was it?"

"I-" The constriction above his sternum appeared again as to did earlier that day in the cave, and the anxiety and pain begin to rise as his heartbeat did, "I'm scared, Clark."

He paused for a minute, his hand falling from the other's face as it moved to clutch the left side of his chest, "I don't want to ruin you like I did everyone else."

He let his head fall, hair probably covering his face from the other's view.

The usually composed man felt his voice crack as he finished his sentence, and the stunningly perfect man in front of him suddenly shifted closer, his own warmth infiltrating all of Bruce's senses. At least he had said it, at least he was as blunt as he possibly could be.

"Bruce, I love you so much," his face was growing nearer and nearer, and the image of him backing Bruce into the brick wall, the butterflies that were fluttering all over his stomach abruptly came to his mind, the scene that had been haunting Bruce since it occurred flashed across his brain once more. "I don't know how else to put it honestly, and I know you love me too, and it's okay to be scared. It's okay to not understand it at first. It took me almost an entire year to even put a label onto my feelings, better yet accept them for what they were.

That doesn't make this wrong, though. Complicated, yes, but not wrong. We work, but only if you let us work. The more you place these defenses and the more I have to battle through them means the less time we have to actually enjoy each other." His soft hand slowly raised Bruce's head, index finger just below his chin and grey eyes met blue. "We can do this, but you need to believe in yourself as much as you believe in me."

Staring, the orphaned boy (he felt like such, all his emotions let loose like a pack of wild animals) could only admire the true beauty before him, and he barely recognized his head moving as he closed the gap between them. He didn't control the hasty movement of his hands as he dragged his fingers through the soft curls, so delicate beneath his fingertips.

They started off slow, Clark hands instinctively grabbing onto Bruce's exposed waist, the strong grip contrasting with the graceful drag of his fingers on his bandaged skin. The longer he kissed him, the more the warmth spread from Bruce's chest to his stomach. His lips were controlled, soothing unlike Bruce's own, who's movements grew primal the longer he indulged in the moment.

His eyes were shut tight, hands growing more rough with their movement, and his heart fluttered like a bird in a cage. This wasn't part of any plan he had, yet all he could do was let it happen and pray this would work out well. His cheeks burned as he tasted more of Clark, the mint flavor traveling across every one of his senses, and he hadn't even realized how far they'd gotten until Clark's tongue was connecting with his.

Pulling away quickly, Bruce could sense how flushed he probably looked, and wanted to curse at how the Boy Scout was just the perfect shade of pink, his lips a bright red and his hair tousled because of Bruce's own motions. "I love you, too." He heard himself mumble, eyes remaining on the other's plump lips, and it was quiet for a moment.

When he had raised his line of sight to meet Clark's eyes, the other man was quick to pull him back into a kiss, except this time Clark held him closer than ever, one hand on the back of his head while the other secured on his lower back.

There weren't any words to describe how the super-powered man was feeling at the moment. It was almost incapacitating, the sound of those words coming from Bruce's plump, pink lips. He had never imagined a scenario where it would occur, not even in his dreams did Bruce ever say it back. "I love you so much," he muttered between kisses, not even having to use any of his strength to lift the injured man from off the mattress and onto him. Bruce's hands were on his shoulders, gripping tightly as though he never wanted to let go, and Clark allowed himself to lean back slightly so his weight was on one elbow as the other hand dragged down the man's impressive physique.

Bruce's skin was smooth, jagged near the scars of his countless attacks, and the Kryptonian made it his mission to memorize every one of them, wanting to engrave this moment forever in his memory (not that it would take much to do so, because...c'mon, Bruce is _straddling_ him). He began to take things further, moving his kisses from the other's mouth to his jaw, then down to his neck as he devoured every inch of the perfect ivory skin. He left marks, biting the skin and sucking as the purple contrasted so greatly with the rest of his smooth skin. Bruce let out a soft grunt, hands moving from his broad shoulders to his hair, where he pulled at the strands and encouraged Clark to keep going.

Gripping onto the man's hip bones, Clark left hickeys from the other's prominent jawline to his collarbone before kissing them gently upwards and meeting Bruce's mouth again.

"Fuck," Bruce gasped, mouth hot and slick for Clark's tongue to explore.

"You want this, yeah?" The restraint in his voice was audible in his tone, and Clark pulled himself away from his close proximity to the raven haired man as a way to focus, because the sight of Bruce covered in the marks _he_ made alone was enough to drive him crazy. 

"Fuck yeah," Bruce smirked, and Clark disregarded his injuries for a moment as he flipped them over in a swift movement so he could hover over Bruce, who was now splayed across the satin sheets almost fully naked. A sight to remember, the Kryptonian noted before dragging his hands down the other's six-pack, fingers dancing along the waistband of his joggers, so gentle in their movement that the billionaire's hips jutted forward out of desire.

"You're mine," he leaned down, dark blue eyes meeting the fully dilated grey ones, "Always have been."

And he crashed their lips together, rough and dominating as Bruce's own hands pulled Clark by the base of his neck as though it was possible for them to be closer than they were already. The atmosphere was thick with tension of what was to come, and moving from his neck to his shoulders to his chest, the raven haired man began to strip Clark of his button-down, hands practiced and calculated as they moved fast down his abdomen. Revealing his perfectly smooth, unscarred skin, Bruce hastily moved his hands from the other's perfect abs to his pants.

Clark moaned in the other's ear, unable to contain himself as Bruce's hand began to rub against his shaft.

"Jesus Christ, Bruce," he mumbled, "Can I-"

"Fuck me tonight, Clark."

_Okay, damn._

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think and please point out errors they really help my writing! I couldn't finish it cause I did have plans to write it all out but if you guys want a ch 2 I can do that! I was just really tired and this is like 4 thousand words it freaked me out omg but thank you for reading!
> 
> also I WILL get better at responding to comments bc you guys are so sweet it's just by the time I see them its been like weeks and I feel so weird responding so late
> 
> edit: me realizing this is actually 6000+ words...


End file.
